Betray me, please
by Monchy
Summary: Sometimes Padmé liked to watch. Slash, het, and a little bit of everything. AU.


One last one, before I leave for London, yes?

Er... I have no explanation for this one.

Oh yes! AU... Qui-Gon is not dead.

* * *

**Betray me, please**

Sometimes, Padmé liked to watch.

She sat on the big couch, and leaned on the seat's back comfortably, resting her hands on her lap, caressing softly the fabric of her dress once in a while. The lights were on, but she had dimmed them, so she could appreciate the way their low glow played with the different shades of the skin of both men. It was something she had always liked, the way Mace's dark skin contrasted with Quinlan's tanned but paler one. It was so very beautiful, and it made her think of the freedom this gave her.

Coming here every chance they got had become normal, a strange reality the three of them craved, and shared secretly. It excited her, just like the first time, and it gave revenge a very sweet taste.

Mace laid back, allowing Quinlan to claim the dominating position, and Padmé's fingers clutched the black fabric on her lap when she examined the play of muscles on the master's back. Quinlan moaned Mace's name loudly, while the other master just breathed hard and heavy. They were so beautiful together, all black and white. Such adorable contrasts that it made her mouth water, especially when Mace's face looked so pleased, so lost inside his pleasure.

_"Good morning, senator. I didn't know you were in Coruscant."_

_Padmé smiled at the man, offering him her hand to shake. "Master Windu, is always a pleasure to see you."_

_She had always felt that she was being far too nice when she was around master Windu, but there was something about him that just forced her to. Maybe it was the seriousness on his face mixed with the kindness on his eyes, or maybe that way he had of standing; she couldn't be sure._

_"Are you looking for Skyw-padawan Skywalker?"_

_Padmé nodded, still smiling. It was no big secret that the now fifteen year old padawan shared a close friendship with the senator, but she had to wonder if there was bitterness behind master Windu's words. Rumours said that the senator and the padawan were more than that, and even when the thought had crossed Padmé's head more than once, she couldn't help but feel appalled that people could think that she would touch such a young boy._

_Anakin liked her, it wasnot like he was very subtle about that, but it was nothing more than a crush. He touched her sometimes; her hand, her shoulder, sometimes her hair or her cheek, but it was all very innocent. Whether she enjoyed it or not, well, that was nobody's business. She had decided long ago, that if Anakin's crush stayed with him for another two or three years, things might just work for the two of them._

_"Yes, I am," she answerer simply, keeping her smile intact._

_"I believe he is in the Gardens," murmured master Windu. "Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan will probably appreciate you taking him; they don't have much time for themselves these days."_

_Padmé giggled a little, putting her hand to her mouth immediately. It was a surprise to hear master Windu talk in such a way, subtly acknowledging the ongoing affair between Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan. Only a blind person wouldn't have noticed it, but still Padmé had heard the story from Anakin, angry as he was over his master taking such a hateful lover. Anakin's and Obi-Wan's relationship was based on hate, and Anakin loved complaining about the man when they were alone._

_"Is that so?" asked Padmé. "Well, then I'm glad I can serve the Order in such a way." _

_Padmé would have thought master Windu would have at least smiled at her, but she was surprised by a sad look on what always were expressionless eyes. She had to cover her mouth not to gasp, understanding downing on her. So master Windu had no bitterness to give her, he probably had none left. If Obi-Wan was Qui-Gon's lover, and Anakin was Qui-Gon's padawan, well, there was no place for master Windu, now was it? Padmé found herself whishing she was misreading the man._

"_I… I-" she stuttered, "I better get going."_

_Master Windu smiled a little, leaning forward. "Wait a second."_

_Padmé did, and she almost yelped when master Windu touched his finger to her face. She took a step backwards, closing her mouth only when she saw the lash now sticking to the master's thumb. She looked at it, wondering if the man's finger had stayed on her face longer than necessary, or if that had been just her imagination._

"_Make a wish," murmured the master._

_She found herself nodding and leaning forward, blowing then the lash from the master's finger. He smiled at her, and she was surprised to see such an honest, wide smile on his face. She said her goodbyes, and walked away._

There was something special in the way they fit. It was so very perfect. Padmé had seen it before, in so many different positions and places, but it didn't cease to amaze her the way in which so very different bodies could create something so beautiful. Maybe it was in the way Quinlan looked leaning over Mace, almost as a fierce creature, or in the way Mace just let it all go, clutching Quinlan's arms with so much strength it had to hurt.

They were both beautiful men, she had to admit. It was probably what had dragged her into this affair in the first place. Or maybe not, how could she know? She hadn't really given it much thought, she had just accepted the freedom it gave her, and how easy it seemed, whereas her other life, her _real _life, was such a complicated matter.

Quinlan looked at her, and she didn't had to force the smile that grazed her lips. She bit her lower lip when Quinlan laughed a little, and then started moving faster inside Mace, forcing the other master to clutch the sheets desperately. He was such a tease.

_She crumpled the note with her right hand, and took a step back. They didn't notice her, focused as they were on each other. She wanted to look at the wedding band Anakin had put on her finger a year ago, but she couldn't tear her eyes away from the sight before her. It was tearing her soul apart, making her stumble backwards, and still, it was making a slow fire burn low on her stomach._

_Anakin threw his head back, hitting the wall that was supporting him, but too enthralled to care. She watched with mild amusement the way her husband thrust inside Obi-Wan's mouth, the way his lipsparted in a silent plea, the way something deep seemed to lie behind his blue orbs. He had never looked like that when he had been with her, but she didn't think about blaming herself for that._

_She found herself wondering if it had been Qui-Gon's death what had started this, or if had been going on for longer. She didn't care, though. The sting of betrayal burned inside her while Obi-Wan climbed up Anakin's body, kissing every inch of exposed skin. She managed to take a step back, and ran to her apartment._

_She closed the door behind her, and stumbled into her home, trying to think, and not managing to. And then she saw him, sitting on her sofa and smiling that stupid huge smiled of his._

"_You!" she pointed at him, accusingly, still holding the crumpled note in her fist. "You send me the note."_

_Quinlan nodded, not erasing his smile. "That I did."_

"_What-what would you do that for?" She sounded a little bit hysterical, but she still managed to glare at the now smirking master._

"_I just thought you deserved to know."_

_Padmé huffed, throwing at him the note that had told her where and when to go to see this betrayal. "I didn't want to know!"_

"_Now, senator, don't lie to me; you're far too proud not to want to know."_

_Padmé stomped her foot on the floor, paced a little nervously, and ended up sitting next to Quinlan, trying to still her trembling hands. "You didn't want to warn me, you just wanted an accomplice."_

_Quinlan shrugged, looking into her eyes, and touching her covered knee. "Perhaps. Darling Obi is cheating on me, don't I deserve at least that?"_

"_Not from me."_

_Quinlan smiled, lowering his hand, and managing to put it under her dress. "Oh, but it has to be you, senator."_

_Padmé looked at him, glaring, but nor doing a thing to stop the hand that was lifting her dress and climbing up her thigh. It felt strangely painful, but that didn't stop her legs from spreading to allow entrance to that exploratory hand._

_Quinlan was talented, no doubt, touching her with an expertise she wouldn't have though his fingers possessed. She let him enter her with two long fingers, gasping, but never leaving his eyes. She saw herself reflected in them, and even as pleasure overcame her, she started to sob._

"_Shh, senator, shh," murmured Quinlan, touching his lips to her temple. _

_Padmé leaned her forehead on his shoulder, crying desperately while his fingers moved inside her, bringing her closer, to what she couldn't be sure._

"_Now, now… It's ok, he doesn't now how to take care proper care of you, does he?" _

_Padmé didn't move, shuddering a little when she reached her peak. Quinlan hugged her, and she straddled him, and buried herself in that big, tall frame, smelling her scent, that now lingered in the room. She cried until she had no tears left._

Mace grasped Quinlan's hair and pulled, hard. Quinlan complained and Padmé giggled softly, knowing that his groan came from pleasure and not from pain. Quinlan liked it rough, even when he was capable of the utmost delicacy and tenderness. On the other hand, Mace was a much more considerate lover. He was so very polite, always asking may I, could I, please.

Quinlan moved even faster, and Padmé stifled a moan against the cushion she had clutched seconds before. Mace moaned a little bit lauder, and Padmé knew he was coming undone. She had become an expert at identifying the noises they both made. Then again, they could probably pinpoint hers with the same accuracy.

The orgasm came over both of them almost as the same time, and Padmé started wondering why she had decided to watch instead of to participate. Self-torture, that. She watched Quinlan fall on top of Mace, who received him with a low 'ooff'. Mace wriggled a little and Quinlan moved to his side, allowing him to breathe. Padmé giggled again.

"_It's nice to see you, senator," murmured master Windu. "Looking for Skyw-Knight Skywalker?"_

_Padmé repressed a chuckle, and shook her head. "I was actually looking for master Vos; I can't find him anywhere."_

"_Yes, that's Quinlan for you. I'll let him know you're looking for him if I see him, senator."_

_Padmé smiled, thankful. Master Windu, for the serious man he was, was always awfully nice to her. "Thank you, master."_

_She walked away from the master, and kept searching. When she finally found Quinlan, the scene that greeted her amused her to no ends. It was the second time she saw a man she had slept with engaged in questionable activities with another man, but this time she didn't run. She took a step forward and coughed, making both men look at her. Master Windu covered himself immediately, but Quinlan just offered her a wide grin._

"_Well, master Vos, is this some kind of mission of yours? Comforting all mourning souls in the city?"_

_Quinlan smiled, and Mace just managed to give them both a mortified look. "Only the pretty ones, senator." Quinlan offered her a hand, and she arched an eyebrow. "Join us?"_

"You're awfully quiet tonight, senator," murmured Mace, once he gained his breath back.

Padmé smiled bashfully at him. "I was thinking."

"Oh, please stop that at once, love," scolded Quinlan. "Thinking is such an overrated activity."

Padmé rolled her eyes, but she couldn't stop a low chuckle. "Not all of us have the privilege of being able to survive with no brain, master Vos."

Mace laughed, and Quinlan pouted a little. "You're so cruel with me."

Padmé joined Mace's laugh, and Quinlan chose to shake his head. After a short pause, he stood up, walked towards her stark naked, and took her in his arms, forcing a yelp from her throat.

"Join us, yes?" murmured Quinlan, while he carried her to the bed.

"Again so soon?"

"Well, it's going to take us ages to get you out of that bloody dress of yours."

"I have to agree to that," murmured Mace.

Padmé laughed when she was thrown carelessly on the bed, and then silenced by two mouths and four hands. She felt free, ravenous, and safe. Some day, perhaps after she died, she would have to thank Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan and Anakin for screwing them so badly.


End file.
